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THE MEMORY OF 

IRWIN RUSSELL 

WHO AWOKE THE 
FIRST ECHO 



^?6 



BEFO' DE WAR 



Echoes in Negro Dialect 



A. C. GORDON 



THOMAS NELSON PAGE 




NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1888 






Copyright, 1888, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



TROWS 

PRINTtNG AND eOOKBINDING COMPANY, 

NEW YORK, 



BEFO' DE WAR 



ECHOES IN NEGRO DIALECT 



IN OLE VIRGINIA 

MARSE CHAN, AND OTHER STORIES 

BY 

Thomas Nelson Page 



Including " Unc' Edinburg s Drowndin' 
''Meh Lady,'' ''Ole ' Stractcd,'' "No 
Haid Paion ," and ''Polly'' 



Cloth, i2mo, $1.25 



CONTENTS. 



Thomas Nelson Page. 



Uncle Gabe's White Folks, 


I 


Zekyl's Infiuelity, 


• 17 


ASIICAKE, . . • - . 


. 89 


Little Jack, .... 


. Ill 


Marse Phil, ^ . . . 


. 117 


One Mourner, .... 


, 127 


A. C, Gordon, 




Nigger Twis', .... 


6 


JjKvARLiNA Jim, .... 


10 


De Ole 'Oman an' Me, . 


. 13 


OLE Laughin', .... 


21 


Euo, . ..... 


. 25 


DEPARTED Luck, .... 


. 30 


Kree, ..... 


. 34 



VI CONTENTS. 








Mine Oyster, 








PAGE 

38 


Poke o' Moonshine, 








43 


The Lament of Orpheus, 








48 


Lofty and Lowly, 








' 53 


God Knows, 








56 


Virginia Creepers, 








60 


Before the Party, 








63 


At Whitehall, 








67 


Mars' Rodney's Hat, 








70 


Ananias, 








75 


Dead, 








79 


Festina Lente, 








83 


JUCKS, 








86 


Ichabod, 








94 


Simeon, f'om Georgy, 








98 


Disappointment, . 








102 


To You, 








* 105 


Sweet Home, 








. loS 


Home Again, 








123 



UNCLK GAHE'S WIIITK FOLKS. 

Sauvi:ni', iMiirslci ! Vc^s, snli, chit's uic — 

OK^ line' (jiibc's my name; 
1 lliaiiktH', Maisti'r, I'm 'l)i)nl, yo' sec. 

"An' dc olc *o(jman?" She's mneh de same, 
l\)'ly an' 'plainin', thank de L(ncl !' 
I>iit de Marster's gwhie ter come back from 'broad. 

*' Vine olc phice ?" Ves, sail, 'tis so ; 

An mighty fine pco[)le my white folks war — 
Ihit von oiii;ht ter 'a' seen it years a<^o, 

When de Marster an' de Mistis lived n[) dyali ; 

When de ni<;;<»'ers 'd stan' all ronn' de do', 

Like grains o' corn on de cornhouse Ho'. 
I 



2 ^.V(V./^ (,'.//.v;\v wrriTE folks, 

•' l.ivc nu>Jis'ons luj^li ' " N Cs. Maistcr, yes ; 

Cul'u' vM\iv>\al \\ iMMillv ihisli : 
l'\it an" til ink till vou v\MiKln' res*. 

Mv (v^lks \v;u'n' none o' vv»' po'-while-liash ; 
N\>t, sail, ilev was oh lui^h vU\i;roo — 
Pis lioah niggor au\ i|uality I 

** Toll yv>u 'bout 'oni ?*' Wni imis* *a* hcarn 

'InMit tuy v>lo while t\>lks. slu^' ! 
I loll yvnu suh, viev was gre't an' stern ; 
r>* ilidu' have nutiiu' at all lo leanx : 

IV Kuv^wevi all d;\r was u> knv^w ; 
(nU* v^bor de* head an* v>nvier doy feet : 
An* silbcr ! vU\v svnvovi *t like folks sows wheat 

** rj>o tor ho rich ?'* Oat warn* do wuvi ! 

Jos' waUvWvod an' ix^U' in wx^alf. 
Why* iK>tte o' my while folks c\xr stirVi 

Tcr Ur A hau* for d self ; 



rxr/ r i/.i/w's wiiii'i: loi ks, 3 



1 )(' niL;L;iMS nsi* tcM" W- slau'ln' inim' 

.Ics' \X s:iim* (V, loaves wlicii kXk^s Ins' lall down ; 

X^c sl;il)lc-sl;ills iij) IumIi ;il lioinc 

I ,(U)k(sl like ted in a lin(>-li)..f coin!) ; 

1 )e lallle was pMi;«/ii)ns inns' (cII (\c lae' ! 

An" (le ho.-s nieeked de hill sides k...k like l.la. k 

An' de lloeks ol) sliei-p was so jmc'I an' w liilc 

l)ev 'iHMiisl like elonds K^\\ a moonshine iiii^liL 

An' wluMi niv »>le IMi.lis nse' lei walk - 

JiS (er hei^ kei i iilive (dal was Ini" 

v./. ever slur walked) 1 udl yon, sii-, 
Xkwx could alnios' In-ah her silk dres^; talk ; 
I lit nse' lei' .soim' like de inoinin' hrec/.i', 
When il wake.s an' iiislles de (hc'L ihtnsi; ( it'OS. 
An' de Marstei's lace ! ile Maislei's face, 

AVHieneviT de Mar.slei" i»ot lijdit pleas.ed— - 
\V\"11, I 'elar' lei ( lord, '(w»Mild shine wid i;iae(^ 

I )e same e/, lli^; eoiinlenanee had been i^reaseil. 
1 )c cellar, loo, iiad ilc hcb' uh wine, 



4 rXCLE U ABE'S WHITE FOLK'S. 

An' brandy, an' spcrrits ilat yo' could fine ; 
An' cv'vthino- in tlvah was stored, 
'Skusin' do Glory of ^c J.ord ! 

"Warn' dyah a son ? " Yes, sah, yon knows 

lies de young Marster now ; 
l>ut we heah dat dey tooken he very elo'es 

Ter pav what ole Marster owe ; 
lie's done been gone ten year, 1 s'pose. 
But he's eoniin' back some day, of eo'sc ; 
An' my ole 'ooman is aluz pyard. 

An' meekin' de Hlue-Rooni baid ; 
An' ev'rv day dem sheets is ayard, 

An' will be till .s-//r\s- daid ; 
An' de styars she'll scour, 

An' dat room she'll ten*, 

Ev'v blessed day dat de T>orti (\.o sen' ! 

What say, Marster? Vo' say, you knows — ? 
He's young an' slender-like an' fvaii ; 



UNCiE c A HE'S wiirrK folks. 



5 



iJcUcr-lookin' 'n yoii, of co'sc ! 

Hi ! you's 1r; ? 'Fo' Gord, 'tis liim ! 

'Tis dc very voice an' eyes an' liyah, 
An' nunif an' smile, on'y yo' ain' so slim — 
I wonder vvliah — vvhah's dc ulc 'ouman ? 
Now let my soul 

Depart in peace, 
For I beliol' 
Dy glory, Lord ! — I kncnvcd yon, chile — 

I knowed y^>ii soon's I see'd yonr face! 
Whar has you been dis blessed while ? 

Done come back an' buy de place ? 

Oh, bless de T>ord for all his grace ! 
De ravins shell hunger, an' sliell not lack 
De Marstcr, de young Marster's done come back ! 



NIGGER-TWIS'. 

Ruuir hard work wliilc it lasts — dat's so — 
Worruining 'backer all day long ; 

Miz'rv gils in ycr back, yon know, 
• Spcshly dcin what ain't so strong. 

l>at's my lix. Hnt it sccnis tcr nic 

Isc i^iid fnr it all when it comes ter dis : 

My long-stem pipe, little Jake on my knee, 
An' my jiocket chock fnll o' nigger-twis'. 

*' Corn-cob ?" Ves, sir. It ain't so iinc 
As tlat 'hogany-colored one o' yourn ; 

Hnt I gits as nuich ont o' dis o' mine 
As (\c fines' one you ever did own. 



AV6V/AA'-77/V.S". 

\)c juice all dries in (\c col), you s(»c — 
J ):iL's (Ic philos'pliy o' pipers like dis ; 

An' ;i reiul-rool slein is di; sU;n\ liir me, 
An' dc swedes' 'hackiM- is iiiiiner-lwis' 



Deni dar's (Mir'iis Ihinp^s, slio' 'inif — 

l)em lillle s])liiil(MS what li^lils jes' so; 
I lil (ley heads wliar (\c hox are roni;Ii 

A sort o' hard — an' away di^y i^o ! 
I never liki'd 'cmii. It, seems ter iiu* 

1 )e devil's in 'em sonn; way. An' dis 
Is jes' as oood an' as line, you sec; — 

A retl-hot coal on de nii^j^ci' twis'. 



**\Vouldn' 1 like a ciu^ar ? " you say. 

Nc), sir, 1 Ihank you. Ise tricMl dcin dar 
Diff'rcnt, sir, as de ni^liL Irom day ; 

I"ur aj)art as a cuss an' [)ia'r ; 



XlCGER-r\VIS\ 

Hasn't no strcngtli, it seems tor mc : 

Can't begin to compar' wid dis ; 
Nothin' onder de sun can be 



Sweet as a cob an' some nigger-twis' 



No— dat niither ! Well, I'll declar' ! 

Dat is dc beatenes' Ise seed yet ! 
What is de name dat you call dat 'ar ? 

Say it again, please ? " Cigarette ?" 
Little Jake, what sets on my knee, 

'Ud turn up his nose at a thing like dis 
Ise gwine ter teach him tcr do like mc. 

An' suck de comfort from niggcr-twis'. 

Yes, dat's a fac' ! 'Tis a lux'ry, sho', 

'Hacker is, whatever you say. 
Seems like I never wants nothin' mo', 

'Ceptin' ter set down here dis way, 



mGGER-'J'lVlS\ 

Take little Jake \\\) on my knee, 
Have me a corn-cob pipe like dis, 

Wid a stem as long as from you tcr me, 
An' a pocket cliock full o' niof^er-tvvis' 



KYARLINA JIM. 

{Fis/urmau^s Hut, C/wsapcake Bay, i^-jS.) 

When you wns here, some sixteen year 

Or so aback, you says, 
A darkey named Kyarlina Jim 

He fished f'om dis here place ? 

Dat yonder's him — Kyarlina Jim — 

On de bench dar by de do' ; 
lie have been ole an' weak an' bline 



Sence dat long time ago. 



Yes, dat's de way he spen's each day 
O' de blessed year, 'dout fail ; 

Wid face turned out'ards to'ds de Bay, 
Like watchin' fur a sail. 



KYARLINA JIM. 

Ebcn when clouds 'uU come in crowds, 

An' beatin' win's 'uU blow, 
He still keeps settin' pashunt dar 

In his ole place by de do'. 

An' de sweet sunlight, 'tis jes' like night 

Ter po' Kyarlina Jim ; 
He's weak an' bline, an' rain an' shine 

Is all de same ter him. 

Dat chile you see dar on his knee, 

She never fails ter come, 
About dis time o' ev'ry day, 

Ter fetch Kyarlina home. 

I seldom cries ; but when my eyes 

Lights on de chile an' Jim, 
Dar's sumpin' sort o' makes me feel 

Kind ter his gal an' him. 



12 A'YARLIXA JIM. 

Another chile lie los', long while 
Ago, Ise hcerd him say, 

Is out dar waitin' in a boat. 
On de blue waves o' de Bay. 

I 'spec's, beca'se o' what he says, 
Dat chile he los' 'ull come 

'Fo' long, jes' like dis here one does, 
An' fetch Kyarlina home. 



''DE OLE 'OMAN AN' ME." 

We doesn't live as oust we did : 
De grub's done struck a change ; 

An' when I mentions ash-cake now, 
My wife she thinks it strange. 

She's got sot-up dese Las' few years, 
An' wheat-bread's all de go ; 

But, someliow, seems I'd like ter tas'e 
Some ask-cake-pone onst mo'. 

De buttermilk has done give way 

Ter tea an' coffee now ; 
"An' possum-fat," she always says, 

" Is low-flung grub, nohow ! " 



''DE OLE 'OMAN AN' ME:' 

She doesn' ever foot it now, 

Like how slie used ter do ; 
But drives my yaller mule ter town, 

An' wushes he was two ! 

She hasn' had a liomespun coat 

For many a long day, 
But w'ars de fines' sort o' clo'es, 

Made jes' de white folks' way. 

She doesn' call me " Ichabod," 
Or '' Ich," or " Ole Fool," now ; 

An' cf I mentioned '' Anniky," 
'T 'ud sartin raise a row. 

'Tis "Mister Brown " an' ''Mistis Brown," 

Ontwel it seems ter me 
We's done gone changed our nat'rel selves 

F'om what we used ter be. 



'' DE OLE 'OMAN AN' ME:' 15 

I know, beca'se as liow Ise tried 

An' never seed it gee, 
It's awful hard ter teach new tricks 

Ter ole dogs sich as me. 

Dat broad-clof coat she made me buy, 

It don't feel half so good 
As dat ole jeans I used ter w'ar 

A-cuttin' Marster's wood. 

An' beefsteak ain't for sich as me, 

Instid o' possum-fat ; 
An' " Mister Brown " ain't " Ichabod " — 

I can't git over dat ! 

So Mistis Brown may go ter town, 

A drivin' o' dat mule, 
Jes' when she likes ; but, sartin sho', 

/ ain't gwi' play de fool ! 



l6 '^ DE OLE 'OMAN' AN' ME:' 

An' as fur her insist! n' how 
Dat I should try ter learn 

Dem A B C's de chillun reads — 
'Tis no consarn o' her'n. 

I doesn' keer what grub she eats, 
Or what she calls herself, 

Or ef slie has a bofy now 
'Slid o' a cubbud-shelf ; 

I doesn' keer how fine her clo'es, 
May be, or what's de style — 

I'm able fur ter pay fur dat. 
An' has been so some while. 

Dar's only one o' all her ways 
Gits over me fur sho' — 

I p'int'ly hones fur possum-fat 
An' ash-cake-pone onst mo' 



ZEKYL'S INFIDELITY. 

MiSTis, I r'al'y wish you'd hole 

A little conversation 
Wid my old Zekyl 'bout his soul. 

Dat nigger's sitiwation 
Is mons'us serious, 'deed 'n' 'tis, 
'Skusin' he change dat co'se o' his. 

Dat evil sinner's sot he face 

Gin ev'y wud I know ; 
Br'er Gabrul say, he's fell from grace, 

An' Hell is got him sho'. 

He don' believe in sperits, 
'Skusin' 'tis out a jug! 

2 



1 8 ZEA'VrS IXFIDELITY. 

Say 'tain' got no mo' merits 
Den a ole luilf-cured lug ; 
'N' dat white cat I see right late, 
One evehn' nigh de grave-yard gate, 
Warn' nuttin' sep some ole cat whar ' 
Wuz sot on suppin' off old hyah. 

He 'oont allow a rooster, 

By crowin' in folks' do', 
Kin bring death dyah ; and useter 

Sav, he wish mine would crow. 
An' he even say, a hin mout try, 
Sep women-folks would git so spry. 
An' want to stick deeselves up den, 
An' try to crow over de men. 

Say 'tain' no good in preachin' ; 

Dat niggers is sich fools — 
Don' know no mo' 'bout teachin* 

'X white folks does 'bout mules ; 



ZEKYVS INFIDELITY. 1 9 

An' when br'cr Gabrul's hollered tell 
You nios' kin see right into Hell, 
An' rambled Scriptures fit to bus', 
Dat hard-mouf nigger's wus an' vvus. 

Say quality (dis is mainer 

'N all Ise told you yit) — 
Says 'tain' no better 'n 'arf-strainer ; 

An' dat Jiis niaster'U git 
Good place in Heaven — po' white folks, mark ! — 
As y'all whar come right out de ark ; 
An' dat — now jes' heah dis ! — dat he, 
A po'-white-folks' nigger's good as me ! 

He's gwinc straight to de deble ! 

An' sarve him jes' right, too ! 
He's a outdacious rebel, 

Arter all Ise done do ! — 
Ise sweat an' arguified an' blowed 

Over dat black nio^grer mo' 



20 ZEKYVS IN-PIDELITY. 

*N would 'a' teck a c'nal-boat load 
Over to Canyan sho' ! 

Ise tried refection — 'twarn' no whar ! 
Ise wrastled wid de Lord in pra'r ; 
Ise quoiled tell I wuz mos' daid ; 
Ise th'owcd dc spider at his haid — 
But he ole haid 'twuz so thick th'oo 
Hit bus' my skillit spang in two. 

You kin dye black hyah an' meek it light ; 

You kin tu'n de Ethiope's spots to white ; 

You mout grow two or three cubits bigger — 

But you carn't onchange a po'-white-folks* nigger. 

^Vhen )'ou's dwellin' on golden harps an' chimes, 

A po'-white-folks' nigger's thinkin' 'bout coons ; 

An' when you's snifflin' de heaven'y blossoms, 

A po'-white-folks' nigger's studyin' 'bout possums. 



OLE LAUGHIN'. 

When I was a boy in Ferginycr, 

At de plantation down on de Jeems, 
Years aback 'fo' de war kim, an' freedom— 

What a long time ago it all seems! — 
My Marster he owned an ole nigger 

Dat de white folks, beca'se o' his mouf, 
Never called nothin' 'ccptin' "Ole Laughin',' 

Down dar in de Souf. 

He had de mos' cur'uses' notions 

'Bout jokin' an' havin' o' fun ; 
An' dar wasn't no stoppin' dat darkey, 

Ef ever he onst had besfun. 



22 OLE LAUGI//y\ 

Ise seed him like biistin' his weskit 
A-laiighin' at tiling's dat most folk — • 

Spite o' whatever funny /ic foun' dar — 
Never 'sidered a joke. 

He would laugh when his chillun was cryin', 

He would laugh when de cryin* was done ; 
Seems like cvvything struck him ridicTus 

Dat de Lord has made onder de sun ; 
An' whatever frolic dar happened 

'Mongst de darkeys, ef Laughin' warn't dar 
Things mos'ly went on purty solemn — 

For dey missed him, I 'clar'. 

Ise seed folk whose laughin' was hurtin', 
Seemin' like it was scornfid some way ; 

But his'n warn't dat sort o' music — 
As dill'rent as nioht-time f'om dav. 



OLE LAUGiriX\ 23 

When he opened deni jaw-bones o' his'n 

An' let it all out in one 10', 
Evvvbody wliat heerd him hiughed wid liini 

An' wanted some mo'. 



Laughin' seemed ter take life sort o' ciir'us, 

For I never did know him ter cry ; 
But sometimes Ise noticed a misty 

Sort o* sorrowful look in his ej'e. 
Ole jNIarster he said : *' A philos'pher 

Ole Laughin' is, sartin an' siio' ; 
He looks on de bright side o' all things, 

An' who can do mo' ? " 



When Marster got sick, an' deceasded, 
An' de coffin sot dar o\\ de groun 

By de grave, all de plantation darkeys 
Kim weepin' an' moanin' aroun' ; 



24 OLE LAUGIIIN\ 

An' Laughin' was dar, but de devil, 

In spite o' de grief in his face, 
Seemed ter have a grip on him as usual, 

Eben dar at dat place — • 

For when, arter de words, " Dus* ter ashes ! " 

De Preacher stood silent in pra'r, 
Ole Laughin' he 'rupted de silence 

Wid his reg'lar music, I 'clar ' ! 
But he didn' live long arter Marster, 

An' he died wid a smile on his mouf : 
Dey bofe on 'em sleeps in Ferginyer, 

Down dar in de Souf. 



EBO. 

All o' dese here doin's 

Don't suit me ; 
Ise an ole-time nigger — 

Don't you see ? 

Dis here eddication's 

Humbug, sho' ; 
It's done played de devil 

Wid Ebo. 

Somewhar 'bout lars' summer, 

Dicey she 
Tuk 'n' struck a notion — 

Don't vou see ? 



26 EBO. 

Says she : " Ise been thinkin'." 

An' I says : 
" What )YW done tluink, lioney ? 

Says slie : ''Yes, 

"Ise been thinkhi' mons'ous 

'Bout Ebo ; 
He's fo'teen year ole now — 

Don't you know ? " 

S'l : "Ole 'oman, you is 

Right, I 'spec' ; 
Dar's fo'teen — he kim fus' — 

Dat's kerrec' ! " 

Savs she : " He's a-growin' 

Up a fool ; 
An' Ise gwhie ter sen' him 

Ter de school." 



EBO. 27 



Bcin's how it looked like 

She was bent 
On de projick, Ebo 

Tnk 'n' went. 

An' sence dat lars' summer- 

Don't you see ? — 
Dat 'ar boy have p'int'ly 

Outdone me ! 

Whc-cw ! de norrations, 

Dcm o' liis'n ! 
Umph ! I 'busses laughin' 

Jes' ter lissen ! 

What you think dat Ebo 
Come tell me ? 

Dat all dis here y'arth here- 
Flat, you see — 



28 EBO. 

Dat it's roiin', nn' rolls jes' 

Like a ball ! 
" Ebo, dat's a lie," I 

Says, '' dat's all ! 

''Don't you sec yer Mammy, 

Evvy night, 
Set de water-piggin 

Out o' sight 

*' Ob you chillun, up dar 

On de shelf ?— 
Now, Mars' Spellin'-booker, 

'Splain yerself — 

" Sunrise, dat 'ar water's 

I n dar still ; 
Ef de y'arth turned over, 

It 'ud spill ! " 



EBO, 29 

But he keeps resistin' 

It arc so — 
Eddication's done gone 

Sp'ilt Ebo. 

He's forever tcllin' 

Some sich lie ; 
He's gwi' fine out better 

By-um-by. 

Ef Ebo keeps Tarnin* 

At dat school, 
Nex' thing, he'll be provin' 

Ise a fool ! 

I are p'int'ly gwine ter 

Take Ebo 
Way f'om dat ar school-'ouse, 

Sartin sho' ! 



DEPARTED LUCK. 

John, put one mo' stick on de liarf. Jes' one ? 

Well, lay it on ; 
An' den we'll freeze afo' we starve, beca'se de 

bread's all gone. 
My trem'lin' lini's won't hole out long ; an' what's 

de use ter pray ? 
Lord, pity dese po' niggers who has gin dere luck 

away ! 

You's been too sick ter do a bit o' work sence dat 

'ar time 
I started down ter Denny's store, an' foun' dat silber 

dime 



DEPARTED LUCK. 3 I 

Jes' in dc turniii' o' dc road ; an', like a fool dat day, 
Instid o' kccpin' it, I tuk an' gin my luck away. 

John, don't you 'member, long ago, when little Bill 

was born. 
We worked down at de Edgeworth place, amongst 

ole Marster's corn ? 
De eatin's dat we used ter have, an' not a cent ter 

pay— 
Dat time when we was never 'feard ter give our 

luck away ? 

A little while aback, when you was layin' moanin' 

dar, 
I kep' a-thinkin' o' dem days, an' tried ter turn ter 

pra'r ; 
But, somehow, evvy bit o' pra'r dis w'ared-out mouf 

could say 
Was, '' Lord, for dat 'ar time, afo' I gin my luck 

away ! " 



3- DEPARTED LCCA'. 

An' don it seeinod like, sho* onuf, it had come back 

oust mo' — 
Soeinod like I seed Miss Ellen dar, a-standin' in 

de do', 
Jes* like as how she used ter come each Chris'mus, 

wid a tray 
CV Chris'mus things, long, long afo' I gin my luck 

away. 



Seemed like I heerd de music dat de white folks 

always had 
Up at de Gre't House. Chris' nius-ti me, when cvvy 

soul was glad ; 
Seemed like a gre't big Iyer burned here on de harf, 

some way ; 
I thought we never had been po', an' gin our luck 

away. 



DEPARTED LUCK. 33 

An you w^s scttin' over dar, :in' IViH was on de llo', 
A playin' like he used ter phiy in d;it long time 

ago; 
But den de cole gript on me, an' de dream it wud- 

den stay : 
We're weak an' starvin', John, beca'se I gin my luck 

away. 

But take it easy, John ! I know we never is gwi' 

see 
Sich days as dcm agin ; 'fo' long dey'U bury you 

an' me. 
Bread gone, de little stick burnt out ; de embers 

gittin' gray — 
Lord, fetch us whar we never mo' can give our 

luck away ! 
3 



KREE. 

Mv boy Kree ? 
He played wid you when you was a chile ? 

You an' he 
Growed up tcrgcther ? Wait ! Lemme see ! 
Closer ! so I can look in yer face ! — 

Mars' George's smile ! 

Lord love you, Marster ! 
Dar 'neaf dat cypress is wliar Kree lays. 

Sunburnt an' grown ! 
Mars' George, I shudden ha' knowed you, son, 
'Count o' de beard dat yer face has on. 
But for dat ole-tinie smile o' vour'n — 



KKEE. 35 

** An' Kree ? " you say. 
Hadn't you lieerd, Marster, 
He 'ceasded de year dat you went away ? 

Kree an' you ! 
How de ole times comes back onst mo' — 
Moonlight fishin's, an' hyars in de sno'; 

Squirrels an' jaybirds up overliead, 
In de oak-trees dat de sun shined through ! — 
Look at me, Marster ! 
Here is me livin' ; an' Kree, he's dead. 

'Pears tcr me strange 
Now, when I thinks on 'em, dose ole years: 
Mars' George, sometimes de b'ilin' tears 

Fills up my eyes, 
'Count o' de mizery now, an' de change — 

De sun dims, Marster, 
Ter an ole man, when his one boy dies. 



B^ KREE, 

] )i(l you say " How ? " 
Out in cic dug-out, one moonshine night, 

Fisliin' \vi(l your baby br(.)Llici- — lie 
Wid dc curls o' yallcr, like streaks o' light, 
An' (le dancin' big blue eyes. Dead, novv- 
Kree died for him ; 
An' yearnin' for Krce, 
]^e Lord tuk him, INIarster : 
De green grass kivers 'em bofe f'oni sight. 



ITeerd o' de tale ? 
Didn' kno\y Krce was de one dat drowned 
Sayin' Mars' Charley ? Well, 'twere he. 
De bt)y waxed weaker, his face mo' pale, 
Arter de corpse o' poor Krce were found. 

Two months later he went, you see: 
God bless you, Marstcr ! 
Nine years has rolled over bofe onder ground. 



KRI'I'. 



37 



Woi'ii oil! .'Ill' .L;r:iy, 
Ilcrr I S(;(s wnilin', Mars' ( mm>i <',i', aloiu;. 

All on 'em's i^oiu* — 
Ma.rst(M- an' Mist is, an' Cliarlcy an' Ik*. 
^^)^ an' inc ()iil\' is Id'. Some day, 
When yon's j^onc l):i(k lri- yci slii[) on dc sea, 

I'll \\c\\x him say, 
Jcs' as hc^ used (cr, a-fishin', Icr nio : 

*' I)a(l(ly, coiner over!" An' passin' away, 
Dat side do river, ai;ain I'll l)c 

VVid my boy Kree. 



"MINE OYSTER." 

No, it never did agree wid de likes o' dis here nig- 
ger, 
For de a'r is sort o' stiflin' twix' dese mountains, 
Eas' an' Wes' ; 
Evvy blessed year I lives here, seems dese hills is 
growin' bigger 
Ter de miz'ry in my knee-j'ints an' de trouble in 
my dies'. 

Ise a Tuckahoe Ferginyan f'om Tide-water of Fer- 
ginyer, 
Whar de oshters am delishus an' de fish is hard ter 
beat ; 



''MINE oyster:' 39 

Lord, I hasn' seed an oshter, in de time dat I has 
been here, 
Dat dis nigger have cornsidcred fittin' any ways 
ter eat. 



Dey fetches 'em in cans up, dese here railroad sojer- 
fellows, 
An' it takes a good day's workin' ter perkure an 
oshter-stew. 
Dese ain't nothin' but runt-oshters ; yet de reste- 
ranters tell us 
Dat dey come f'om Mobjack Bay, sir. Pshaw ! 
I know dat can't be true ! 

I lived down dar myself onst, an' I think I I'arnt de 
fashion 
O' dem oshters in dat water — shape, an' size, an' 
ta'se, an' all ; 



40 ''MINE oyster:' 

Dis here darkey may be ign'ant, an' widout no ed- 
dication, 
But a Mobjack oshter p'int'ly is beknownst ter 
Uncle Saul. 



You may brag o' roasted possum an* de glories o' 
hog-killin', 
You can 'numerate de hom'ny, you can shout de 
ole ash-cake ; 
But one dish o' Mobjack oshters, an' ole Saul is 
p'int'ly willin' 
Ter denounce de other eatin's for de Mobjack 
oshters' sake ! 

Umph ! dis mouf o' mine jes' waters at de thought 
o' dem dar critters — 
Fried, an' baked, an' stewed, an' raw ones — how 
we 'stroyed 'em down dar ; 



''MINE oyster:' 41 

Soft as mush, an' f'arly better dan merlasses on yer 
fritters — 
But de glory am departed, an' dem oshters ain't 
novvhar ! 



I have trabbled through Ferginyer sence Mars' 
Linkum sont de freedom ; 
I have cotch 'em, an' I've eat 'em, Norf an' Souf 
an' Eas' an' Wes'. 
Oh, dey's prime at Glorster P'int ; dar it's mighty 
hard ter beat 'em ; 
But de oshters fo'm ole Mobjack am de sugares' 
an' bes'. 

It is seben year, an' ober, sence I 'zided in dat sec- 
tion, 
An' I'm 'feared dis hilly Valley 'ull lay on me when 
I die ; 



42 ''MINE oyster:' 

But I holds de ole Tide-water in my warmes' ree- 
collection, 
An' I'd like ter slip down dar onst mo' an' make 
dem oshters fly. 

I would like ter eat dem oshters 'twel I perish jes' 
fom eat in' ; 
Dat's de kind o' death dat seems like it 'ud suit 
yer Uncle Saul. 
Yes, I'd ruther go dat way, sir, dan ter drap down 
dead in meetin' ; 
Fur ter die fom eatin' oshters is de sweetes' 
death o' all. 



POKE O' MOONSHINE. 

Moonshine ? Yes, sir, 
Right smart ahead ; 

Ten mile, at bes', sir. 

Git down an' res', sir, 

Outen de rain. 
Onder dat shed 

Is a good place ter tie him, 

Or Joe can stan' by him 
'Twel you's ready ter set out again. 

" Know Poke o' Moonshine ? 
Yes, sir, I does. 

Marster, you won't fine 
Many o' h's kine 



44 POKE O' MOOXSIIIXE. 

'Roun' dis here way! — 
Much as he was 

Sence I remember ; 

Ole John's December 
Is haler dan mos' folkses' May. 



Moonshine ? Played out ! 
When dey was rich, 

'Twas widout doubt 

De fines' about — 

Pictur's an' things. 
Flowers an' sich — 

All sorts o' doin's : 

Now it's in ruins — 
But dat's what war gen'ully brings. 

Moonshine 'bout den 
'Longed ter Mars' Sidney. 
All o' de men 
O' dat family's been 



POKE O' MOONSHINE. 45 

Purty g(JO(l <;rit — 
Folks o' fine kitlncy ; 

So, when do war kini, 

Nothiii' could licndcr him 
But what he mus' go inter it. 

John Poke, o' co'se, 
Went in dar, too ; 

Mis' Agnes stays 

Home, jes' beca'sc 

Winien can't b'ar 
What men goes through — 

Lovely an' young she were, 

When Mars' Sid went f'om her 
Ter be shot in dat turrible war. 

Home kim John Poke 
Wid de lad dead : 

'' In all de smoke 

An' de fightin' he spoke 



46 POKE O' MOONSHINE.. 

Ter me only," says he, 

" An' here's what he said : 

* John, take good keer o' her — 
Guard de welfare o' her — 

Ef death comes betwix' her an' me.' " 

All dese here years 
John Poke have been 

True ter dem tears. 

Moonshine affairs 

Mars' Sid' lef bad ; 
John's been a frien' — 

So he has keered fur her. 

What he's liad, spared fur her, 
All fur de sake o' dat lad. 

Dat's a line hoss ! 
Lead him out, Joe ! 

Rain's over, boss ; 
Not much time los' 



FOK'K O' MOO\' SHINE. 4/ 

Stoppin' wid me — 
Gently, dar ! wlioii ! 

Marstci", in passiu' by 
On ycr way back, sir, I 
Hope you'll tell me how John Poke may be. 

Switch, sir ? I says 
You'll hardly fine 

Sich, nowadays ; 

'Speslily (ley's skase 

'Roun' dis here way, 
Men o' Jiis kinc. 

I'm dc man ortcr know 

Better dan mos' folks, she'. 
My daddy, sir ? Yes, sir. Good-day! 



THE LAMENT OF ORPHEUS. 

" Been travellin' ?" Don't you see I is ? 

** Whar ter," hey ? Ole Green Su'phur : 
I tried it for my rheumatiz, 

An' never k no wed it rougher. 
I used ter go dar long ago, 

When I was young an' healthy : 
It ain't like what it was, you know% 

When Souvern folks was wealthy. 

Well, yes ; I s'pose as many now 

Goes dar, as used ter go dar: 
But seems like it have changed somehow — 

Sersi'ty's gittin' low dar. 



THE LAA'IENT OF ORPHEUS. 49 

Isc knowcd do time do F. F. V.'s 

An' none else run it, honey : 
But things is changed ; an' so, you sees, 

All goes dat's got de money. 

When Marster sot out evvy June, 

Sometime about de middle, 
I always went ; an' many a chime 

Ise played dar on dis fiddle : 
But fiddlin' now is done gone out, 

An' brass ban's is de fasiiion. 
An' Garmins ; not a night widout 

De Garmin like de nation ! 

You never seen de Garmin, hey ? 

You orter seen it, honey ; 

Jes' take an' go down dar, some day ; 

It's p'int'ly wuth de money. 
4 



50 THE LAM EXT OF ORFHEUS. 

You never seed a monkey-show 
Could ever stan* a-showin' 

Ter one o dem things all ago, 
Wid all de ban' a-blo\vin". 



You knows de ole Ferginyer Reel, 

Whar two goes down de middle ? 
I never think o't 'daut I feel 

A hankerin' fur dis fiddle. 
Dat was a dance an F. F. V. 

M ought well be proud ter dance in ; 
But dis here Garmin — I can't see 

How white folks Stan's sich prancin' ! 

" How does dey dance de Garmin ? " Well, 

De ban' it 'gins ter sizzle ; 
An' den, befo' you's time ter tell, 

A fellow blows a whistle ; 



THE LA MR XT OF ORPHEUS. 

An' (Icn (\c ladies an' dc men 
Dey takes an' j^rabs eacli other, 

An' spins an' whirls an' spins agen- 
An' never lets iro. nuther! 



I know de white folks knows a heap, 

An' Isc jes' an olc nigger 
Wid brains 'bout big enough ter keep 

F'oni gittin' luirt — no bigger ; 
But, somehow, it do look ter me 

Like things had got alarmin', 
Ter sec an ole-time F. K. V. 

A-dancin' dis new Garmin. 

Well, sence my trip down dar I feel 

Like hangin' up dc fiddle. 
Dey's done forsook de fine olc reel, 

Wliar tw^o goes down de middle ; 



THE LA ME XT OF ORPIIKUS. 



An' olo-liino tV)lks an' olc-linu- clumcs 
Is wotcd nii<;lity slow dar — 

For nionkoy ban's an' whistlin' loons 
lias run scisi'ty low dar ! 



T.Oli-TV AND LOWT.V. 

\)k wliitc man's j^ot dc; 'vanta^-c 
()' (\c ciillud pussoii, sarliii : 

Yoii's clone boon free 

L()niz;cr dan nic — 

An' dafs one tiling in sLailin'. 

You never worked terbarker, 
Hill Uik it out at college ; 

I never looks 

lntc;r dc books — 

Vou has nie on sich knowledi^'o 



I ain't got no high notions, 
Let 'lone de eddication ; 



54 LOFTY AND LOWLY. 

Nor money 'twel 
You can't stan' still — 
As much as all creation ! 



My wife don't play de panny, 
Nor drive brash liosses, nuther ; 

Nor vv'ar fine clo'cs, 

Like she o' your's — 

Mine's some below dat, ruther ! 

But lissen at me, Marster : 

I knows all dese things fits you ; 

O' co'se, you ought 

Ter have dis sort — 

But dar's one place I gits you : 

I don't have harf de worry 

What troubles your life, honey ; 



LOFTY AND LOWLY. 55 

De bank, you see, 
M ought bus' for me — 

/vvudden lose no money ! 

Ef all your books an' pictur's 
Was somehow ter git 'stroyed, 

Marster, I know 

Dat, sartin sho', 

You'd mourn for what you's 'joyed. 

You never is contented : 

You wants yer big pile bigger ; 

Ain't I kerrec', 

Den, when I 'spec' 
You's outdone by a nigger ? 



*'G()J) KNOWS." 

Ti:li, you ;i talc, v\\ ? Hlcss dc cliilluii ! 

It's been sicli a very loni;- lime ago 
Dal I don't know whether 1 ain't forgotten 

All o' tleni tales dal 1 used lev know. 
Vour daddy was always axin' fur 'em, 

When he was a ehaj\ jes' like you two. 
Ise tole him lots ; but I disremember — 

It's been st) k)nir — :ill ^Ic bes' 1 knew. 



*Twas a wile INhuch nionl', an' de win' was blowin' 

Blowin' oreat i;iuis, de sailors say; 
I^c water was loamin', an' all de rii^oin' 

Wropt ter de mas's, in de Chessypeake liay. 



''COD KNOivsy 57 

A wreck tiik pl:u;o nol liir f'oin Norfolk — 
A slooj) f'oin li(jston, :in' all lian's drowned ; 

l^^jur men an' a chile an' a yaller-liyared 'onian, 
J)(^se was d(j coipses de sho'-lolk lound. 

'Twas clcjsc ter de Ian' wliar de vessel stranded, 

lint de waves was rnnnin' so orfnl hiu;^!) 
It was bonn' ter c(jnie — dar was no help fnr it — 

All o' dein people was marked ter die. 
One o' de papeis drifted inwards, 

What 'lom^ed ter de shjop ; an' dar on it 
J)e name o' de men an' de lonjj^-hyared 'oman 

Dat kiln i'oin Ijuston was plainly writ. 

Three o' dc men was dc Cap'en's saihjrs, 

De Cap'en's self was de tother one ; 
An' we jedged his wife was de white-faced 'oman, 

lint de name o' de little chile was gone. 



58 ''GOD KNOWSy 

Do Kurrincr — him what sets on bodies — 

He copied inter his book all dose ; 
Den he axed me : " How shell I write dis baby ?" 

An' I answered de Kurriner : "Sir, God knows! 



So wlicn dey kim fur ter bury de bodies 

O' de lk)ston men by de Chessypeakc Bay, 
Dey put up a head-mark over each on 'em, 

Wid his name an' his death an' his drownin'-day. 
An' de yaller-hyared 'oman was buried wid 'em, 

An' her name an' her death an' her day was writ 
On de head-board plain ; but dat one over 

])e chile — dar was nothin' ter put on it. 

But one what sot on de Kurriner's jury — 
A gray-head man wid a kinely eye — 

Sez : " Let it alone, an' I'll ten' ter it. 
An' write a name on it by an' by." 



''GOD KNOlVSy 59 

Bar's a marble sharf not fur f'om Norfolk, 
By de Bay down dar ; an' whoever goes 

Up de Shipwreck Road kin read de writin' 
Dat's writ up over dat chile : '' God knows ! " 



VIRGINIA CREEPERS. 

(iS6S.) 

Ole Mistis off en afo' she died — 

You know how she used ter set 
Out dar on de Gre't House porch, o' days ; 

I thhiks I sees her yet — 
Offen she said : *' Yous good enough — 

But Anniky's pizen mean ; 
An' dem chillun o' her'n an' yourn's de scruff 

O' de y'arth ! " Now, y'all done seen 
How. what she tole me is done come true : 
I always knowed it, and said so, too. 

What is dat sass you's up ter, now ? 
Wliat does you want ter know ? 



VIRGINIA CREEPERS. 6 1 

Ef you says one word 'gin ole Mistis, boy, 

I'll smack you, sartin slio' ! 
^' How come she go call you scruff ?" Jes dis : 

Y'all was dc lazics' crew 
Dat de Lord ever made, in doin' de work 

Dat she wanted you ter do ; 
« Ferginyer Creepers ! " she used ter say, 
When she seen you a-pokin' along all day. 

An' now sence de freedom come, it's wus' 

Dan ever it was afo' ; 
You stretches out dar in de sun, an' sleeps 

An' sleeps foreber mo'. 
Ef you's got a rag ter yer back, somehow 

You thinks dat dat's enough. 
An', boy, dat's de reason o' how come why 

Ole Mistis called you scruff. 
You lets me slave fur de grub you cat ; 
You sleeps, while I gethcrs de bread an' meat. 



62 VIRGINIA CREEPERS. 

I'm gittin' w'ared out wid dis here thing 

O' t'ilin' fur all o' you ; 
Sometimes I wishes de ole slave ways 

Was back fur a week or two. 
" How come ? " Jes dis : ter make you work ! 

De niggers never did lay 
Out on a bench in de sunshine den, 

An' sun deyselves all day. 
'* Ferginyer Creepers " was bad, at fus' ; 
" Ferginyer Sleepers " is p'int'ly wus' 1 



BEFORE THE PARTY. 

Yes, honey, you p'int'ly is piirty ; 

IIow long 'fo' dc ball gwi' begin ? 
" Some time yet ? " An' when you's all dancin', 

Can't yer olc Mammy come an' peep in ? 

Dat white silk, it sho'ly do suit you — 
An' dem vi'lets wropt inter yer hyar ; 

Mars' Ranny loves dem sort o' blossoms — 
I 'spec', Baby, dat's why dey's dar. 

Lord, chile ! you looks jes' like yer mother, 
When you turn yer head sideways, dat w\ay ; 

Has you been showed yerself ter Ole Marster ? 
You has, hey ? An' what did he say ? 



64 BEFORE THE PARTY. 

" He never said nothin' — jes' only 
His mouf twitch like ketcliin' a cry ; 

An' lie kissed you, an' turn off an' lef you, 
Wid de water done come ter his eye ? " 

Yes, honey, you's Hke her ; dat's gospel ; 

An' I know^s, by de way dat he done, 
Dat you fotch lier up ter him adzactly, 

An' de ole times dat's over an' gone. 

She used ter w'ar vi'lets dat summer — 
He loved 'em, like Mars' Ranny do — 

Her fus' season at de Wiiite Suff'rer, 
When she was a young gal like you. 

I went wid her dar, dat 'ar season — 
Dey called her de Belle o' de Springs ; 

De young bucks run crazy about her — 
You never did see sich fool things ! 



BEFORE THE PARTY. 6$ 

But Marster was dar, de bes'-lookin' 
An' de smartes', I hearn 'em all say ; 

An' he owned a Jeems River plantation, 
An' so he jes' kerried dc day. 

She w'ared a white dress de fus' ebenin' 
She danced at de ball ; an' she hel' 

Some vi'lets like dem in her fingers — 
I 'members it all very well. 

I hasn't no doubt dat Ole Marster, 

When he seed you, he thought o' dat night ; 
An', mebbe, some other times, honey, 

When he 'membered her 'rayed out in white. 

Now I thinks, she was drest de same fashion 

At de weddin' at Springfield, you know ; 

Some vi'lets de onlies' color, 

An' her white silk mo' shiny dan snow ; 
5 



66 BEFORE THE PARTY, 

An', Baby, her fingers wropt over 

Fresh blossoms, fotch fom de ole place, 

Like deni ; an' white garmen's was on her, 
De las' time I looked at her face. 



It do make me feel sorter ole-like, 

Fur ter see you growed liansum an tall ; 

I hardly cornsidered it, honey, 

'Tvvel you fixed up ter 'ten' yer fus' ball — 

'Ca'se you's never seemed nothin' but Baby, 
An' it looks sich a short time ago : 

Yes, Mistis, I'm gwi' come an' see you. 
When you dances wid Mars' Ranny, sho'. 



AT WHITEHALL. 

{Precinct No. 32, Albemarle Coimty ; N'ove/nber, 1878.) 

" Ole ? " How ole does you have ter be ? 
Warn't dat Reuben I jes' now see 

Walk up an' put his paper in ? 
Don't you 'spec' Ise as ole as he ? 
Marster, you mus' be makin' fun ! 
Ain't got ter be but twenty-one ? 

I'm pas' two-hund'ed, as sho' as sin! 
Look at dat Reuben over dar ! 
Ain't no gray in his kinky hyar ; 

Now adzamine dis wool o' mine. 
My back's bent wid de rheumatiz ; 
Nothin' de martter at all wid his. 



68 A 7' IVIIITl'.HAI.L. 

Marstor, sluV as (U* sun do sliine, 
Olc Jim's over two-liinurcd, sir. 
" Prove it ?" Well, sir, you keep de sco'- 
Keep it fyar, \\\\ I'll prcu'e il, slio' ! 

Ole Jim's over iwo-huiured year — 
My olc Marster, 1 buried him — 
Sixty-nine years dat counts fur Jim; 
Mistis was forty ; young- M;us' Joe 
He was ni^h about thirty-fo' — • 

I tuk 'n' buried bofe o' dem dar. 
ITovv many's dat, sir? Well, keep 'count- 
I'm gwine ter give you de 'zact amount. 
My ole 'oman was sixty-three — 
Gittin' on to'ds it, don't you see ? 

Over two-hund'cul, fyar an' squar* — 
Two o' de chill un Ise \s\\X. away — 
Over two-hund'ed now, you say ? 
Jes' you adzamine dat ar sco', 
Down on yer paper dar, oust mo' — 



Ai' wui ri'.nAi.i. 



69 



Over t,vv()-lnin(r(Ml, slio' :is sin ! 
1 Icrt; is (h; vote, sii' ! l*iiL il in. 
'^.rvvcnly-ont; yc.'iis ! IIiii[)!i! vvliiil's diit ? 
llopci I may ii(;vi;i' cal j)()ssniii-l:il, 
Never lelcii ;Lsli-cake-[)()n(; no mo', 
Kl 1 ain'L over Lvvcj-liinurcd, slio' ! 



MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. 

(1867.) 

Ter be sho', dar's some holes in it- 

What o' dat ? 
Yes, it's greasy ; an' de ban's gone 

F'om de hat. 
Sun done tuk out all de color ; 

An' de rain's 
Done gone kivered it wid rusty 

Sort o' stains : 
But it suits me, an' I likes it. 

Caesar, dar, 
He's done mounted a new beaver 

'Top his hyar. 



MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. 7 1 

Boy, I wudden trade my kiver, 

Nary pull, 
Not for twenty like dat 'ar one 

On your wool. 
Dar's a story 'tached ter dis 'un, 

Mistis said, 
'Ca'se it onst 'longed ter a soljer 

Dat is dead. 
** Who ? " Mars' Rodney, in de war-time, 

Went ter fight 
Wid dis hat on ; plumes swung f'om it 

Black as night. 
He were shot down dar by Richmun' 

In dis hat : 
See dis split here by de rim ? It 

Kim f'om dat ! 



Long years back, onst I was comin' 
Down dat lane — 



72 MARS' RODxVEY'S HAT. 

Heish yer cussed jabberin', nigger ! — 

I was say'n' ? 

Yes, a-trabellin' f'oni de Quarters ; 

An' he stood 
By de big oalv at de cornder 

O' de wood. 
Don't you 'member dat young lady 

Used ter come, 
Reg'lar ev'ry summer, up liere 

F'om lier home, 
Visitin' o' young Miss NeUie ? 

Well, dat day 
She were wid him. As I pas', I 

Hear him say: 
" Yes, I love you ! " but I missed jes' 

What she said ; 
An' w^ien I looked back, dis hat were 

On her head ! 
Seems ter me you don't see ladies 



MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. 73 

Like her now ; 
An' de men ain't fine as he was, 

I'll allow. 
'Twas dc purtiest pictur' ever 

Struck my sight : 
His face drapped tcr her'n, turned up'ards, 

Tetched wid light. 



Young Mars' Rodney, two days arter, 

Went away. 
He were young, de war mos' over ; 

So, dat day, 
He 'peared keerless-like, an' happy 

Fur ter go — 
But he never kim back livin' 

Any mo'. 
She went, too, an' never is been 

Here sence den. 



74 MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. 

I had tuk a notion she had 

Met her en', 
'Twel ole Mis' sez : " She is livin' 

Sum'ers yet ; 
But I'm 'fear'd," sez she, " her brightes* 

Sun have set." 
So I jedge she ain't so happy, 

Jes' by dat. 
As dat mornin' when he kissed her 

'Neaf dis hat. 



ANANIAS. 

He's a two-forty team, sir, on tellin' a lie, 
An' I'm sartin de devil 'uU get him bimeby ; 
I'll jes' mention you why : 

He's done been out here on dis Chessypeake Road, 
At work like a mule fur his clo'es an' his board — 
As dey tole me, dat knowed ; 

He stayed dar, I 'spec's, about half o' a year, 
An' de fus' thing I know he's a-comin' back here — 
Purty 'zumptious, yes, sir! 



7^ ANANIAS. 

*' How come so ? " Jes' beca'se dat de nigger per- 

ten's 
Dat he's trabelled de woii', an' done been ter its 

en's ; 

But T has got some sense, 



An' I ain't gwine ter swallow dat tarbaby's lies : 
He needn' be flingin' his dus' in my eyes — 
I kin see when I tries! 



Ef you jes' hear his racket, f'om what he have tola, 
He's done made some twenty-odd sacksful o' gole, 
An' had it all stole ! -: 



An' he talks 'bout Kenturky, an' what he have seen 
How de bosses is one-twenty whar he has been. 
An de bluegrass all green. 



ANANIAS. 77 

Circus-ridin', he says, is one thing he's been at ; 
An' his circus has Junybugs big as my hat. 
An' what gits over dat 

Is his ellyphant yarns, sir; an' den, tcr be sho', 
He's been huntin' o' krokydiles dar, sir, you l<now, 
An' killed b'ars by de sco'. 

I 'spec' ef his Marster could come back an' see 
How dis boy have turned out, he would p'int'ly agree 
Wid his mammy an' me, 

Dat de name he hitched ter him is sartin come true. 
" What's dat ? " Ananias : an' 'twix' me an' you, 
He kin outlie dat Jew! 

Tse knowed dat 'ar boy sence he warn't but so high, 
An' he's never tole nothin' yet 'ccp' 'twas a lie! 
He's gwi' ketch it bimeby ! 



yS ANANIAS. 

Sence de day I was born, I could never stan' liars 
De wus' thing my wife an' me has for ter try us, 
Is dis here Ananias. 



DEAD. 

Ole Marstcr's dead ter-night — 
Tuk sudden, when he looked as peart an' strong, 
An' brash an' hearty-like, as all along 
He's been dese fifteen year : " Done dead ! " 

Young Doctor Gahnett said 

Ter me, yistiddy, break o' light. 
Hard fur ter know we never is gwi' see 
Ole Marster 'roun' here like he used ter be — 

Beca'se he's dead ter-night. 

De bes' man ever lived, he were — 
I never is been hear 
Nothin' but good o' him ; 



80 DEAD. 

An' now ter think dem bright bhie eyes is dim! 

Done gone ter bed, 
Ter sleep fur good — dirt pillows 'neaf his head- 

Beca'se he's dead. 



We buried our dead Marster dar 

Ter-day, 
In de ole church-yard whar 
We used ter play 
When we was bar'foot boys, some sixty year ago 
An' all his cullud folks, dat loved him so — 
Beca'se he was as near 

An' dear 
Ter us as ter his own — 
Dey tuk 'n' come 
Ter lay ole Marster in his norrer home ; 

An' each one fiuns: 
A shovelful in on liim. Den a groan 



DEAD. 8l 

Went up, so loud cle preacher cudden pray. 

But den, 
Standin' aroun' de half-full grave, we sung 
Dat hymn Ise often heerd roll off his tongue : 
" I vvudden live alway ! " 

Dat was de en' — 

Amen ! 



As I sets here, 
A-watchin' o' dem stars up dar on high 

In dat blue sky, 

It do appear, 

Someway, 
Dat he is furder off f'om me dan dey ; 

It do appear 
Like it was hard ter know he's tuk 'n' gone, 
Like it was hard, somehow, ter jes' live on — 

We folks dat's worf 



82 DEAD. 

So little — while de clug-up earf 
Has kivered him f'om sight : 
My Marster, my ole Marster, dead ter-night! 

He never done no harm ter any livin' thing 

De good Lord made ; 
He fed de po' — I know de news '11 bring 
Miz'ry ter many a one dat's prayed 
Often an' over dat his years mought be 
Like de numerous leaves on a tree. 

But it's bes' — 
De Lord, He knows what's right ; 

" On.Jesus' breas' 
He gives ter his beloved sleep," 

De good Book say : 

An' so, someway, 
I 'spec' ole Marster's happy dar ter-night. 



FESTINA LENTE, 

I wusH you hadn' gone an' did 

Jes' what I tole ye not ter ! 
De Chris'miis dinner's tuk 'n' slid 

Long o' yo' foolin', drot yer ! 
I axed you, fus', ter be mo' slow ; 

But you mus' go a-skeetin', 
An' let de hyar out in de snow — 

Our onlies' Chris'mus eatin'. 

You needn' stan' up dar an' grin, 
Jes' like 'twar sumpin' funny ! 

Ef dat 'ar hyar ain't tuk>'^// in, 
/are mistaken, honey. 



84 FESTINA LENTE. 

Isc 'vised you, time an' time ag'in, 
'Bout rushin' 'roun' an' t'arin' ; 

De way you does, Joe, are a sin 
Ter set a preacher sw'arin' ! 

Dar ain't no sense in starin' 'roun* 

Ter see cf he's in sight, sir ; 
He's five mile off, I'll jes' be boun', 

An' sarves you 'zactly right, sir ! 
Not for ter know no mo' dan dat 

'Bout handlin' o' gum triggers, 
An' let him go, slick as my hat — 

It's jes' like you young niggers. 



Now, lemme tell you onst ag'in : 
Don't do things in a skurry ; 

Ixcess o' zeal are boun' ter win, 
But not ixcess o' hurry. 



FESTINA LENTE. 85 

So, Joe, ef ever you let's go 

Another Chris'mus dinner, 
I'll lay a liick'ry on you, Joe, 

As sho' as I'm a sinner ! 



JUCKS. 



Yonder he comes, jes' as peart : Dat's de way- 
He will be singin' an' whistlin' all day. 



Seems like he don't mind dem crutches no mo* 
Dan nothin' ; an' as for dat eye, ter be sho', 

He says he would ruther have two eyes dan one, 
But it's done been knocked out — an' what's done 



" How do he manage ter live ? " Well, you see, 
He han'les dc fiddle jes' like ABC. 

An' dance ! Lord, you jes' orter see what a huf 
Dat 'ar lame nigger slings, when he tries sho' cnuf ! 



JUCKS, %'] 

'Cause, bein' as how he are crippled an' lame, 
White folks dey docsn' treat Jucks jes' de same 

As dem what has got all dey lim's safe an' soun'— 
Dem niggers what's able ter ten' ter de groun' ; 

Dey sorter feels sorry ter see him dat way, 

An' dey's always a-givin' him quarters ter play. — ■ 

He got busted up so a-nussin' a mill 

Dat Mars' Thomas run, over dar on de hill. 

You knows Mars' Tom's two little gals ? Well, one 

day — 
Dem chillun forever would ^it in Jucks' way — 

Well, dey was a-foolin' aroun' wid de 'sheen — 
'Twas one o' dese here big steam saw-mills you's 
seen — 



88 JUCKS. 

An' dey got ter come puUin' an' yerkin' de screws 
An' de thingumajigs dat a steam saw-mill use. 

Jucks, he cudden watch 'em an' do his work, too, 
So arter a while dey jes' pulled de wrong screw ; 

As soon as he seed 'em, Jucks tuk out an' run — 
But he knowed 'twas too late for ter men' what 
dey'd done, 

So he grabbed 'em an' chunked 'em out in de saw- 

dus', 
Way off ter one side : an' de 'sheen tuk 'n' bus' ! 

Dat's how come he walks wid dem crutches, an' 

why 
He can't see on one side, for lack o' an eye. 

''He's a mighty fine fiddler," Mars' Thomas he say ; 
" An' he never shall want while I'm livin', no way ! " 



ASHCAKE. 

Well, yes, sir, dat am a comical name — 

It are so, for a fac' — 
But I knowed one, down in Ferginyer, 

Could 'a' toted dat on its back. 

" What was it ? " I'm gwine to tell you — 

'Twas mons'us Ions; aofo : 
'Twas "Aslicake," sah ; an' all on us 

Use' ter call 'im jes' " Ashcake," so. 

You see, sir, my ole Marster, he 

Was a pow'ful wealfy man, 
Wid mo' plantations dan hyahs on you haid- 

Gre't acres o' low-c:roun' Ian', 



90 ASHCAKE. 

Jeems River bottoms, dat used ter stall 

A fo'-hoss plough, no time ; 
An' he'd knock you down ef you jes' had dyared 

Ter study 'bout guano 'n' lime. 

De corn used ter stan' in de row dat thick 

You jes' could follow de balk ; 
An' rank ! well, I 'clar' ter de king, Ise seed 

Five 'coons up a single stalk ! 

He owned mo' niggers 'n arr' a man 

About dyar, black an' bright ; 
He owned so many, b'fo' de Lord, 

He didn' know all by sight ! 

Well, sir, one evelin', long to'ds dusk, 

I seen de Marster stan' 
An' watch a yaller boy pass de gate 

Wid a ashcake in his han'. 



ASH CAKE, 91 

He never had no mammy at all^ 

Leastways, she was dead by dat— 
An' de cook an' de hands about on de place 

Used ter see dat de boy kep' fat. 

Well, he trotted along down de parf dat night, 

An' de Marster he seen him go, 
An' hollered, " Say, boy-say, what's yer name ?' 

i^ A— ashcake, sir," says Joe. 

It 'peared ter tickle de Marster much. 

An' he called him up to de do'. 
'' Well, dat is a curisome name," says he ; 

" But I guess it suits you, sho'." 

*' Whose son are you ? " de Marster axed. 

'' Young Jane's," says Joe ; " she's daid." 
A sperrit cudden 'a growed mo' pale, 

An' " By Gord ! " I heerd him said. 



92 ASHCAKE. 

He tuk de child 'long in de house, 

Jes' 'count o' dat ar whim ; 
An', dat-time-out, you never see 

Sich sto' as he sot by him. 

An' Ashcake swung his cradle, too, 

As clean as ever you see ; 
An' stuck as close ter ole Marster's heel 

As de shader sticks to de tree. 

*Twel one dark night, when de river was out, 

De Marstcr an' Ashcake Joe 
Was comin' home an' de skiff upsot. 

An' Marster 'd 'a' drownded, sho', 

Excusin' dat Ashcake cotch'd him hard 

An' gin him holt o' de boat. 
An' saved him so ; but 'twas mo'n a week 

B'fo' Jiis body corned afloat. 



ASH CAKE. 93 

An' dc Marster he grieved so 'bouten dat thing, 

It warn' long, sah, befo' he died ; 
An' he's sleep, way down in Ferginyer, 

Not fur from young Ashcake's side. 



ICHABOD. 

All o' de glory's done departed — 

Tuk 'n' gone ! 
It p'intedly makes me right down-hearted, 

Sho's you're born. 

All on it comes o' dis books an' schoolin' 

De chilluns git ; 
I never ain't credit no sich foolin,' 

An' doesn't, yit. 

What say ? " De 'fects o* de eddication ? " 

I doesn' know 
Nothin' 'bout 'fects ; but dis nigger nation - 

Is sp'ilin', sho'. 



ICHABOD. 95 

I doesn' anchor my ship ter Tarnin' 

What makes chaps say 
Things dat 'ud never be thunk by niggers 

Dat's done got gray. 

Dey doesn' believe one blessed cushtion 

Outside de books ; 
Jes' call up one an' 'scuss a subjec'. 

An' mark his looks. 

Ax ef he thinks dat de salt iipsotted 

Is sign o' grief ? 
Not one o' dese eddicated young uns 

Has sich belief. 

Ax ef he thinks dose dat inherit 

Up above 
Kin ever come back, ef dey wish, in sperit 

Ter dem dey love ? 



9^ ICHABOD. 

Axef he thinks dat a rusty horseshoe 

Ovxr de do' 
'UU keep de witch f om ridin' you nightmar' ? 

An' he'll say, "No!" 

Jes' 'quire, will you, ef de books tells him 

'Bout de harnt-liglUs 
In de grave-yard, down by de bank o' de river, 

We sees at nights ? 

An' see ef de little nigger doesn' 

Up an' say, 
" De ph'los'phy 'splains dey's jack-my-lanterns, 

Cl'ar as day !" 

Dunno nothin' 'bout 'fects ; but sartin, 

Sho's you're born, 
Dar's too much books, an' too little grubbin' 

'Moncrst de corn. 



I C II A BOD. 97 

Yes, sir ! de glory's done uptwisted 

Flat o's back ! 
De new words don't suit de ole-time music, 

Dat's a fac' ! 



SIMEON, F'OM GEORGY. 

We had hauled in de corn f'om de corn-fiel' 
Two weeks 'fo' you kini along here, 

An' shocked it up dar in de barn-yard — ■ 
We shocks it up dar, ev'vy year : 

An' lars' night, 
We shucked it all out, purty near. 

I k no wed liow as you was a stranger, 

An' thought, perhaps, whar you was born, 

'Mongst de cotton an' cane dt)wn in Georgy, 
Dat you'd never seed niggers shuck corn 

So I 'spicioned, 
()' case, dat you'd want ter ha' gone. 



SIMEOAT, F'OM GEORGY. 99 

An' I looked fur you all 'roun' de place here, 

Ter try fur ter git you ter ten' ; 
But you wasn' nowliar', an' I'm sorry 

Dat you missed de corn-shuckin', my frieii* : 
It was g'ran' ; 

Dar was music an' whiskey 'dout en'. 

Marster sets out de liquor-pervisions, 
Ev'vy corn-shuckin' time, in de fall — • 

Only jes' 'bout enough ter be jolly 
An' not ter make fools on us all : 

An' ole Lcm 
An' his fiddle, dey opens de ball. 

Lars' night, Lem was dar wid de fiddle, 

An' de fiddle it got up an' sung. 
I never knowcd Lem'el so lively, 

Nor seed sich a bow as he swung, 
Sence de days 

When me an' ole Lem'el was young. 



100 SIMEON, F'OM GEORGY. 

An' dc niggers pitclicd inter de corn-pile 
An', I tell you, de shucks fa'rly Hew ; 

De pile o' shucked corn it growed bigger, 
An' was lovely an' yaller an' new : 

An sho'ly, 
I sartinly wished, Sim, for you. 

For de jug it kep* comin' dowm my way — 
Lem'el's Bill w^as a-passin' it 'roun' — 

An' de niggers was singin' like forty, 
Seemin' like dey was tryin' ter drown 

Lem's fiddle ; 
But Lem'el, he stuck ter his groun'. 

*Twel presen'ly, here comes a nigger — 

De blackes' dat ever I see — 
An' say a few words fus' ter Marster, 

Den steps up an' sets side o' me : 
Well, I never 

Seed a tarbaby shuck corn like he ! 



SIMEON; F'OM GEORGY. lOI 

He didn' talk none whilst he sot dar, 
But he leant hisself over dat corn 

An' he handled it right smartly pearter 
Dan Ise seed it did sence I was born : 

'Twasn' long 
'Fo' de mos' o' dat corn-pile was gone. 

An' Marster he kirn w^id de whiskey, 
An' hisself po'ed it out dar for hiai, 

An' 'couraged him smartly ; an' Lem'el 
Stopped fiddlin' a minnit, an' kirn — 

What's de martter ? 
Den 'twas jw/ at de corn-shuckin', Sim ? 



DISAPPOINTMENT. 

Hole de light yar ! De dogs done treed ! 

I knovved dey'd almos' co't him, 
De way dey barked. What's dat you seed ? 
Out on wliich lim' ? 
Yes, sir ; dat's him — 
We sartin slio' is got him ! 

Shet up dat howlin' ? Kick liim, Joe ! 

Dese dogs is p'int'ly eager ; 
Wait 'twel he gits down here below, 
Outer de groun', 
Den, I'll be boun', 
He'll whup 'em like a nigger ! 



DISAPPOINTMENT, IO3 

Joseph, my son, gimme de light, 

An' you kin do de cuttin' ; 
/wudden git dat 'coon ter-night. 
Take holt de axe ; 
Six or eight cracks 
'Ull fix de critter's mutton ! 

Jes' look-a-dar ! I nuver see 

'Coon's eyes so much like fire. 
De way he's starin' down at me — 
Hole on dar, Joe, 
He's 'bout ter go ! 
No — he jes' crep' up higher. 



Here, Caesar — Nero — sick him ! sick 

Stan' back ! de tree's a-fallin' ! 
Now let de dogs git in dar, quick ! 
Ugh ! Shoo dar ! Scat ! 
Ole Toby's cat ! 
Jes' lissen at dat squallin' ! 



104 DISAPPOINTMENT. 

I never see de beat o' chit 
In all my time o' seein' ! 
Folks what can't 'stinguish 'coon f om cat 
Better be sleep 
In bed, a heap, 
Dan up o' nights 'coon-treein'. 



''TO YOU." 

Dar! thankee, Marster. Dat's enough. 

Don't git de ole man tight ! 
Lord ! see de sunshine comin' through! 

Airit it a purty sight ? 
Dis here is what de Cohees calls 

De ray-el Mount' in Jew — 
It looks almos' as ole as me : 

My Marster, here's ter you ! 

Ah-h ! dat 'ar licker fetches back 

De mem'bry o' de days 
When peach an' honey was de drink 

About yer father's place. 



io6 " TO Youy 

De sideboard sinned jes' like de moon, 

De punch-bowl like de sun : 
' An' Marster an' de gentle-mens 
Dey stepped up, one by one. 

" Here's Apple Jack," ole Marster says, 

" Some sebenteen year ole ; 
An' dat peach-brandy are, I think, 

x\bout as good as gole ; 
In dat recanter over dar 

Is native Mount'in Jew." 
Den turns his back ; an' all fills up ; 

Den : '' My regards ter you ! " 



De guggle at dat 'canter-mouf — 
Lord, sakes ! Seems like I hears 

De glasses ring, de spoons ker-ling, 
Dis side o' all dese years ! 



''TO you:' 107 

Ah ! 'fo'-de-war is gone away, 

Jes' like yistiddy's sun : 
An' Marster an' dem gentle-mens 

Has stepped off, one by one. 



No, not no more, I thankee, sir ! 

Dat fur, I'm F. F. V.— 
Jes' one drink at a time, dem days, 

Was 'nuf for quality. 
Dey say dat age is mons'ous fine 

Upon de Mount'in Jew ; 
'Twill keep an hour or so, I 'specs' 

Wid my regards ter you. 



SWEET HOME. 

Many long years I has spent here ; 
Now, dey says, I rnus' be leavin'. 
Well, I can't he'p grievin', 
Jes' beca'se 
Love an' sorrow dey bofe bine me 
Ter dis spot I leaves behine me, 
An' de happy days dat went here 
At dis olc home place. 

In my age I is departin', 
When my han' have los' its cunnin', 
Wid de ebenin' sun in 
My dim face. 



SWEET HOME. I Op 

Over dar, beyant dem beeches, 
Wliar de long-slant shadder reaches, 
Is de spot I leaves my heart in 
At de ole home place. 



My Marster an' my Mistis, 
My chillun an' my wife, sir — 
Lights o' my pas' life, sir — 
Dey all lays 
Dar beneaf dat groun' ; me only 
Lef behine, po', ole, an' lonely, 
/mus' leave now, while de rest is 
At dere ole home place. 

Oh, it hurts me, dis forsakin' 
O' de place whar I was born in, 
Whar fus' de light o' mornin' 
Tetched my face. 



SWEET HOME. 

I had hoped an' prayed 'dout ceasin' 
Dat I'd fine my en' in peace in 

Dis here house. My heart is breakin' 
Fur de ole home place. 

Lord o' Mussy, in Dy pity, 
When Death's shadders dey come o' me, 
An' de valley lays afo' me 
In a maze, 
Let it be dat I shell straightway 
Enter through de pearly gateway 
O' de sain's' eternal city 

F'om dis ole home place. 



LITTLE JACK. 

Yes, sah. 'Twas jes' 'bout sundown 
Dad went— two months ago ; 

I always used ter run down 
Dat time, bec'us', you know, 

I wudden like ter had him die, 
An' no one nigh. 

You see, we cudden git him 
Ter come 'way off dat Ian' — 

Said New House didn' fit him, 
No mo' dan new shoes ; an' 

Gord mout miss him at Jedgmen' day, 
Ef he moved 'way. 



112 LITTLE JACK, 

^* How ole ? " Ef wc all wondered 
How olc he was, he'd frown 

An' say he was "a hunderd — 
Ole Miss done sot it down, 

An' she could tell — 'twas fo' or five — 
Ef she was live." 

Well, when, as I was sayin', 
Dat night I come on down, 

I see he bench was layin' 
Flat-sided on dc groun' ; 

An' I kinder hurried to'ds de do' — 
Quick-like, you know. 

Inside I seen him layin' 

Back, quiet, on de bed ; 
An' I mecked out he was sayin' ! 

" Dat's what ole Marster said ; 
An' Marster, cert'n'y, he warn't wrong 
We'll meet 'fo' lontr." 



LITTLE JACK. II3 

I axed how he was gettin'. 

" Nigh ter de furrow's een','' 
He said ; '' dis ebenin', settin' 

Outside de do', I seen 
De thirteen curlews come in line, 
An' knowed de sign. 

" You know, ole Marster tole me 

He'd come for me 'fo' long ; 
'Fo' you was born, he sole me — 

But den he pined so strong 
He come right arter Little Jack, 
An' buyed him back. 



I went back ter de kerrige 



An' tuk dem reins ag'in. 



I druv him ter his marriage ; 

An', chile, it was a sin 
Ter see de high an' mighty way 
I looked dat day. 



114 LITTLE JACK. 

" Dat coat had nary button 

'Ceptin' it was ob gole ; 
My hat — but dat warn't nuttin' ! 

'Twas noble ter behole 
De way dem bosses pawed de yar, 
Wid me up dyar. 

" But all's w'ared out befo' me ! — 

Marster, an' coat, an' all ; 
Me only lef — you know me ! — 

Cheat wheat's de lars' ter fall : 
De rank grain ben's wid its own weight, 
De light Stan's straight. 

" But heah ! Ole Marster's waitin* — * 

So I mus' tell you : raise 
De jice dyar ; 'neaf de platin', 

De sweat o' many days 
Is in dat stockin' — toil an' pain 
In sun an' rain. 



LITTLE JACK. II5 

'' I worked ter save dem figgers 

Ter hwy you ; but de Lord 
He sot free all de niggers, 

Same as white-folks, 'fo' Gord ! 
Free as de crows ! Free as de stars ! 
Free as ole hyars ! 

" Now, chile, you teck dat money, 

Git on young Marster's track, 
An' pay it ter him, honey ; 

An' tell him Little Jack 
Worked forty year, dis Chris'mus come, 
Ter save dat sum ; 

*'An' dat 'twas for ole Marster, 

Ter buy your time f'om him ; 
But dat de war come farster, 

An' squandered stock an' lim' — 
Say you kin work an' don't need none. 
An' he carn't, son. 



Il6 LITTLE JACK. 

" He ain' been use ter diggin' 

His livin' out de dirt ; 
He carn't drink out a piggin, 

Like you ; an' it 'ud hurt 
Ole Marster's pride, an' make him sw'ar, 
In glory dar ! " 

Den all his strength seemed fallin' ; 

He shet his eyes awhile, 
An' den said : *' Heish ! he's callin' ! 

Dyar he ! Now watch him smile! 
Yes, suli — you niggers jes' stan' back ! 
Marster, here's Jack ! " 



MARSE PHIL. 

Yes, yes, you is Marse Phil's son ; you favor 'm 
mio^ht'lv, too. 
We wuz like brothers, we wuz, me an' him. 
You tried to foold' ole nigger, but, Marster, 'twouldn' 
do ; 
Not do — yo' is done growed so tall an' slim. 

Hi ! Lord ! Ise knowed yo', honey, sence long befo' 
yo' born — 
I mean, Ise knowed 6.Q family dat long ; 
An' dee's been white folks, Marster — dee ban's white 
ez young corn — 
An', ef dee want to, couldn' do no wrong. 



Il8 MARSE PHIL. 

You' gran'pa bought my mammy at Gen'l Nelson's 
sale, 
An' Deely she come. out de same estate ; 
An' blood is jes' like pra'r is^hit tain' gwine nuver 
fail ; 
Hit's sutney gwine to come out, soon or late. 

When I wuz born, yo' gran'pa gi' me to young Marse 
Phil, 
To be his body-servant — like, you know ; 
An' we growed up together like two stalks in a 
liill— 
Bofe tarslin' an' den shootin' in de row. 

Marse Phil wuz born in harves', an' I dat Christ-mas 
come ; 
My mammy nussed bofe on we de same time ; 
No matter what one got, suh, de oder gwine git 
some — 
We wuz two fibe-cent pieces in one dime. 



MARSE PHIL. 119 

We cotch ole hyahs together, an' possums, him an' 
me ; 
We fished dat mill-pon' over, night an' day ; 
Rid horses to de water ; treed coons up de same 
tree ; 
An' when you see one, turr warn' fur away. 

When Marse Phil went to College, 'twuz " Sam — 
Sam's got to go." 
Ole Marster said, '' Dat boy's a fool'bout Sam." 
Ole Mistis jes' said, " Dear, Phil wants him, an', you 

know " 

Dat '^ Dear'' — hit used to soothe him like a lamb. 

So we all went to College — 'way down to Williams- 
burg — 

But 'twarn' much I'arnin' out o' books we got ; 
Dem urrs warn' no mo' to him 'n a ole wormy lug ; 

Yes, suh, we wuz de ve'y top de pot. 



I20 MARSE PHIL. 

An' ef he didn' study dem Latins an' sich things, 
He WLiz de popularetis all de while : 

De ladies use' to call him, De angel widout 
wings ; 
An' when he come, I lay dee use' to smile. 

Yo' see, he wuz ole Marster's only chile ; an' den, 

He had a body-servant — at he will ; 
An' wid dat big plantation, dee'd all like to be 
brides ; 

Dat is ef dee could have de groom, Marse Phil. 

*Twuz dyah he met young Mistis — she wuz yo' 
ma, of co'se ! 
I disremembers now what mont' it wuz. 
One night, he comes, an' seys he, '' Sam, I needs new 
clo'es ;" 
An' seys I, " Marse Phil, yes, suh, so yo' 
does." 



MARSE PHIL. 121 

Well, siih, he made de tailor meek ev'y thing bran' 
new ; 
He wouldn' w'ar one stitch he had on ban' — 
Jes' throwed 'em in de chip box, an' seys, ''Sam, 
dem's fur you." 
Marse Phil, I tell yo', wuz a gentleman. 

So Marse Phil co'tes de Mistis, an' Sam he co'tes 
de maid — 
We always sot our traps upon one parf ; 
An' when we tole ole Marster we bofe wuz gwine, 
he seyd, 
" All right, we'll have to kill de fatted calf." 

An' dat wuz what dee did, suh — de Prodigal wuz 
home ; 
Dee put de ring an' robe upon yo' ma. 
Den you wuz born, young Marster, an' den de storm 
hit come ; 
An' den de darkness settled from afar. 



122 MARSE PHIL. 

De storm hit corned an' wrenchted de branches 
from de tree — 
De war — you' pa — he's sleep dyah on de hill ; 
An' do I know, young Marster, de war hit sot us 
free ? 
I seys, " Dat's so ; but tell me whar's Marse Phil ?" 

"A dollar !" — thankee, Marster, you sutney is his 
son ; 
You is his spitt an' image, I declar' ! 
What sey, young Marster ? Yes, sub, you sey, *' It's 
five — not one " — 
Yo' favors, honey, bofe yo' pa an' ma ! 



"HOME AGAIN." 

De place is changed sence de ole times — 

Dis place whar I was born, 
An' played, an' growed, an' lived, an' worked 

Amongst de yaller corn ; 
De cabin-flo' is t'ared up now, 

De chimbley's tumblm' down, 
An' I doesn't see de palin'-fence 

About de patch o' groun'. 

But de sunshine 'pears ter be as bright, 

An' de birds as full o' song. 
An' de bees as busy at dey work 

In de clover all day long. 



124 ''HOME again:' 

So, spite o' de cabin's tuinblin' down, 
An' de ragged worrum fence, 

De ole-time scenes comes back ag'in — 
Ise missed 'em ev'ry sence. 



I kin see my wife dar by de do', 

Wid de baby on her knee ; 
An' de tother chillun playin' here, 

Whar de peach-tree used ter be. 
But she is sleepin' on de hill, 

Wid her baby on her breas' ; 
An' de tother chillun's out dar, too. 

All peacefully at res*. 

De little branch runs on de same 

As how it used ter run ; 
Ise crossed it often to'dcs de night, 

When arter my work was done ; 



''HOME again:' 125 

De Great House still is standin' dar, 

Jes' over de tother side ; 
But I hasn' been dar sence de day 

My blessed Mistis died. 



Ise wandered over de State, at large, 

A-doin' what I could ; 
Workin' de railroad, now an' den. 

An' sometimes cuttin' wood. 
It had been some years sence I was here ; 

So, passin' by to-day, 
I felt as how I mus' see de place, 

An' so kim by dis way. 

I'm sorry I kim : de ole glad days 

Comes back so fresh ter me, 
Dat it cuts my heart ter see de place 

Ain't what it used ter be. 



126 ''HOME AGA/jV." 

I'll never hear as onst I heerd, 
In de happy times long gone, 

De darkeys singin' like dey sung, 
Amongst de yallcr corn. 

I'm goin' now. I ain't gwi' see 

De ole home place no mo' ; 
But I 'spec' I never shell forgit 

My wife dar by de do', 
Wid de little baby on her knee, 

An' de chillun here at play ; 
rir 'member de ole place like it was, 

When I am fur away. 



ONE MOURNER. 

{^For Irwin Russell, who died in N'ew Orleans in great destitu- 
tion^ on Christmas Eve, 1879.) 

Well, well, I declar' ! I is sorry. 

He's 'coasted, yo' say, Marse Joe ? — 
Dat gent'man down in New Orleans, 

Whar writ 'bout 'n niggers so, 

An' tole, in all dat poetry 

You read some time lars' year, 
'Bout niggers, an' 'coons, an' 'possums, 

An' ole times, an' mules an' gear? 



128 ONE MOURNER. 

Jes' name dat ag'in, seh, please, sell ; 

Destriciitioji' s de word yo' said ? 
Dat signifies he wuz mons'us/^', 

Yo' say — want meat an' bread ? 

Hit mout : I never knowed him 
Or hearn on him, 'sep' when you 

Read me dem valentines o' his'n ; 
But I lay you, dis, seh's, true — 

Dat he wuz a rael gent' man, 

Bright fire dat burns, not smokes ; 

An' ef he did die destricute, 
He warn't no po'-w^hite-folks. 

Dat gent'man knowed 'bout niggers. 

Heah me ! when niggers wuz 
Ez good ez white-folks mos', seh, 

I knows dat thing, I does. 



ONE MOURNER. 1 29 

An' he couid 'a' tetched his hat, seh, 

To me jes' de same ez yoii ; 
An' folks gwine to see what a gent'man 

He wuz, an' I wuz, too. 

He couldn' 'a' talked so natchal 

'Bout niggers in sorrow an' joy, 
Widdouten he had a black mammy 

To sing to him 'long ez a boy. 

An' I think, when he toie 'bout black-folks 

An' ole-times, an' all so sweet, 
Some nigh him mout 'a' acted de ravins 

An' gin him a mouf-ful to eat, 

An' not let him starve at Christmas, 

When things ain't sca'ce nowhar — 

Ef he hed been a dog, young Marster, 

I'd 'a feeded him den, I 'clar ' ! 
9 



I30 ONE MOURNER. 

But wait ! Maybe Gord, when thinkin' 
How po' he'd been himself, 

Cotch siglit dat gent'man scufflin', 
An' 'lowed fur to see What wcalf 

Hit moiit be de bes' to gin him, 
Ez a Cliristmas gif, yo' know ; 

So he jes' took him up to heaven, 
Whar lie earn' be po' no mo'. 

An' jes' call his name ag'in, seh. 

How ? — Irwin Russell — so ? 
I'se gwine fur to tell it to Nancy, 

So cf I'd furgit, she'd know. 

An' I hopes dey lay him to sleep, seh, 
Somewhar, whar de birds will sing 

About him de live-long day, seh, 

An' de llowers will bloom in Spring. 



ONE MOURNER, 13 1 

An' I wish, young Marster, you'd meek out 

To write down to whar you said, 
An' sey, dyar's a nigger in Richmond 

Whar's sorry Marse Irwin's dead. 









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